


Pull the Trigger to My God Complex

by imperiality (orphan_account)



Series: Halloween Fic Fest Fills [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Halloween Challenge, Love It when the children Suffer, Nausea, One-Sided Attraction, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Relationship(s), Voltron Halloween Fic Fest, gkVHFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-05 13:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/imperiality
Summary: "We've been struggling for along time, Allura. A long time."The evening, the company, even the graveyard itself is all beautiful. This conversation is not.





	Pull the Trigger to My God Complex

**Author's Note:**

> Directly inspired by Sugar We're Going Down. Brought to you with the spite of the rest of Fall Out Boy, with the help of Pvris. (Who will inspire the next fic for the week!)
> 
> I think the inspiration is pretty easy to spot. Especially considering the fill for today is "mausoleum". 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (beware of some slight nausea near the end. nothing too graphic, but for those of you squeamish)

Lance still thought it was a good idea. They’d planned it since like, Valentine’s day at their last picnic. That had easily been one of the most romantic days in their relationship. (In more than one way). _The weather will be even more gorgeous than then, Allura_. _Think of the crunchy leaves, we can cuddle under a thick flannel blanket together. Our cider will get cold by then but… just think of it, Allura_ \- Lance persuaded. So she conceded.

The closer their picnic impended, the more Allura grew anxious.

True to Lance’s word, the weather over the Halloween weekend was irrevocably beautiful. Lance had to repeatedly tug her hand on account of her stopping, staring. Her marveling at the broken leaves under her bundled feet, the innocent but guileful breeze embracing her. The wind seeped through tiny pockets of her jacket’s threads. The wind lifted her white hair in greeting and warning. The evening charcoaled wispy shadows on the browning grass. Trees were so dead and bare, they looked like spindly fingers waving to she and Lance, beckoning. 

Valentine’s was spent canoodling at a botanical garden, which was sweet. But really, this graveyard Halloween date was a stroke of genius from Lance. 

A final tug from his hand signaled his thinning patience. (At that point, Allura spitefully considered what was thinner; the thread-bare trees or Lance’s temper). She gathered her hair to smooth it back down and followed him.

“I checked this place out earlier, scoped the area, made sure it was all up to code for my princess.” Lance winked. He led them up a hill. Allura could appreciate the flowers’ attempt to huddle and bow for warmth like she and Lance were.

“Oh did you, now? Well how awfully kind.”

“Allura. You're going to love this. Just wait till we get to the top of the hill. Actually, close your eyes.”

He shifted his picnic basket and blanket to one arm. With the other, he grasped onto Allura’s hand tighter. He whispered _close your eyes_. Together they walked up the murmuring graveyard. 

As they tread, Lance forced himself not to look at the headstones or epitaphs. 

Allura didn't dare speak as they walked up. She knew there could only be so many things waiting for her up there, and it’s not like she didn’t catch glimpses while her eyes were still open. Beside, there’s only so much Lance could do without defiling the grounds. 

With his breath curling around his lips in white tendrils, Lance whispered once again to Allura,

“ _Open your eyes._ ”

When she did, she couldn’t believe how she _missed_ it at the bottom of the hill. All around her sat lamps glowing soft orange. Each lamp held down a corner of a heavy blanket. Off to one side, Lance had set up a boombox with smooth latin ballads playing in the background. She briefly entertained Lance’s fondness for rose petals and their potential presence then, but sighed in relief at their noticeable absence. 

Up ahead of them stood the most ornate and pristine mausoleum Allura had ever seen. (Aside of course, from her mother’s.) Engraved at the top read _Enders_. Allura read it like an omen. 

“I didn’t bring any wine ‘cause I didn’t know how well that would sit in… a graveyard… and everything. But what do we think? Did I do good?” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek.

“It’s absolutely lovely, darling.” _If not a bit_ much. She returns the quick kiss with a quick glance. The extravagance of the place-setting. The overtness with Lance’s behavior. All of his meticulous attention to detail, it was all _too much._

“Thank you so much for doing this love. I know Hunk was having his Halloween party tonight and I know you wanted to go to that, too.” Under her breath she muttered, “ _and how hard it is for you to bloody stick to your promises.”_

Lance let her snide distaste blow over. No reason for the nasty to crop up so early in the date. _The date hasn’t even freaking started yet._ He smiled as they rolled out his blanket. “I bet they’re having a great time.” His smile darkened as the unpacked the basket. “I- uh. I heard that Matt is supposed to be DJ’ing so that should be a guaranteed _smasher_.” He stuck out his tongue. 

Allura stuck out hers in return for his cheekiness. 

The song on the boombox quickly changed. The pair settled on the blanket, draped the other around their shoulders, opened their cider and looked up to light-fogged stars. 

“You know Lance, I really do appreciate you doing all this. The lamps, the music, the mausoleum. Besides the… faint morbidity of it, it’s quite romantic.” She ruffled his hair and curled in closer to him.

“Baby that’s like the third time you’ve thanked me for tonight. Not that I’m complaining at all, like, keep it coming,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “But seriously, if you really want to thank me you know there’s other ways.” His eyebrow waggling heightened double-fold.

“ _Pffffttt,_ ” she snorted. Before she could smack him away, Lance snatched her hand and stroked his fingers over her palm. He was determined to make this moment last as long and true as possible _before his own bull-headedness got in the way._ “Your welcome,” he smiled.

She tried to return it. She really did. But the longer she looked in his eyes and let him caress her hand, the more strained it all felt. (Was it because of the waning light of day or the flickering light of the lamps?)  The thin trees, his thin smile, his thin patience. It was… trying too hard.

Allura bulldozed over her brittle confidence to smother it in cider. It was effective for much longer than it had any credit being.

She and Lance made idle chitchat. They cooed at each other, adjusted their blanket every now and again. In the spirit of something like romance, Lance prostrated himself to flattery. With a little pinch of fortuition and a genuine tone of voice, Allura would be none the wiser to his strain. 

“I know you know I’ve always been terrible with words,” Lance started. Allura snorted in agreement. “But if I were any better, I would go into all the ways you’re beautiful, amazing, smart. Even all those years ago you put up with my terrible flirting and actually bothered to give me the time of day. I don’t even want to think of where we would be if you hadn’t given me the chance.” 

He took his girlfriend’s hand in his own, softening his tone.

“You took a chance on this… poor, loser, punk kid and I still don’t know what I did that ever made you think I deserved you. I’m still so confused sometimes. You are… you’re so beautiful, Allura. So beautiful. And I’m absolutely terrified that one day you’re going to realize just how much of a punk I am and how much better you could do and how much time you’ve already wasted with me. But, until that time comes, I want to enjoy what we have for as long as we have it.

“I love listening to the sound of your voice. _And all the little sounds you make, I can never get tired of those._ ” He said with a sly smile. Allura lightly smacked his arm but his smile only spilled farther out. “You, your voice, your little gasps and hitches get caught in my head all day. You are _very distracting._ So are those legs like, damn girl. _Damn._ I never knew getting tangled in your legs -and let’s not forget that hair, love getting tangled in that good stuff too- would be on my bucket list.

“I love how you never let me get away with anything. _I love it when you take charge._ I’m serious honey-lips, there’s nowhere I would rather be than wherever you want me. Use me however you want, for real. I’m here for it. Makes everything easier for me. I want to be good for you, Allura. I’ve got a lot to give. All of it’s yours. Whatever you want, how much of me you want, I can never. I can never give you enough.” 

“Oh Lance,” Allura kindly sighed. The night air had tousled his hair, tufting it up in random directions. She combed his hair back with her palms, following the grain, down to his scalp then to rest at the nape of his neck. “You’ll have me as long as you want me.” She raised a brow and sniffed right through him, though. “You should realize by now how easily I can spot your flattery, but I appreciate your sentiment either way. I love you too.” 

Lance would still profess the stars in Allura’s eyes. She could still swim in the sea of his. _Her sorrows wouldn’t be the only place she could let herself drown, so_ ** _there_**. As the night winded down and words evaded them, they occupied each other’s mouths instead.

Each kiss only further distracted them and Allura couldn’t be more than okay with that. When the blanket got too stifling and warm, Lance shucked it off and held onto her neck. He’d like to put his hands a lot of other places actually, but these winter coats weren’t doing much for his wandering imagination. With a particularly languid kiss, Allura sighed into his mouth. Lance took it as good of a sign as any.

Gently and deftly he curled his fingers under her chin, planting airy kisses down the line of the tendon on her neck. Her sighs grew louder and quicker-

Until they stopped altogether.

“Lance?”

Beside them, the crooning music played on. Lance sang along before saying “yes my sweetest sugar plum?” and planted more kisses behind her ear.

“Lance.” Sterner, this time.

“Mmm?”

“Lance, stop.” She pushed his wily lips away to take his shirt in her hand. Before he could take the chance to flirt she hastily released it and looked him in the eye. 

“I’m going to ask you a question.”

“Yeah baby, you know I’m an open book.” Lance relaxed himself and moved to grab the blanket to wrap themselves in again. 

“Then kindly tell me why you smell like Keith’s cologne.” 

Lance immediately stopped fooling with the blanket. His posture remained loose but his expression tensed. He let his mouth run ahead of his head and boisterously assured,

“Why would I smell anything _like_ that guy? Remember the whole ‘we were mortal enemies’ thing? That hasn’t like, stopped being a thing. What you smell is 100 percent certified eau de Lance. Glad you like it so much,” he swooped in to hold her shoulders again.

Allura reached out her hand to push his chest back.

“Cut the BS, Lance.” She took a few (feeble) calming breaths before proceeding. “Why do you smell like Keith?”

“Allura, I’m telling you-“

“And I’m telling you, Lance. You smell like Keith. Tell me why.”

Lance raked a scrutinizing eye over Allura. Her pokerface didn’t waver, but sharply he asked,

“And why do you know how he smells so well anyway, huh?”

She widened her eyes. Raised her brows. Evaded the question. “You kissed him, didn’t you.” It wasn’t delivered as a question.

“You think I _kissed_ him?”

“You kissed him, just say it Lance!”

“You actually think I kissed Keith. You really think that. You can’t even trust your own _boyfriend_? Low blow, Allura.”

She barked a laugh in his face. “That’s **rich** , Lance! Really beautiful! So you two just happened to swap colognes for the day, is that it? Why is the truth so _hard_ for you!”

“It **isn’t**!” yelled Lance. He regretted it before it came out of his mouth.

The boombox grew silent, but Allura carried her own melody of vitriol. 

She recalled every outing they’ve had with their friends. Lance’s recent behavior all came to light under the stars and her striking glare. 

“You must think me very stupid. Very foolish. I can’t believe you, Lance.”

His face flattened. “I didn’t kiss him, Allura.”

“Very stupid, indeed.”

“I didn’t _kiss him!_ ”

“Well then, what _did you do_?” A hollow chuckle was wrenched from her. “I can only imagine. With all of your… lingering glances. The way you’d lean into him when he talked. There’s only one place you would look when he spoke, you know. It’s only now I finally know where your eyes were directed. So very, very **foolish**!” she shook her head. “No. No, I take it back. There were two places you would look, but only one of which were publicly acceptable. _El cochino._ ” she spat.

Lance shuts up. Clenching his fists he admits, “I didn’t kiss him.” Allura scoffed. “I didn’t. But I think you’re letting you’re letting _your_ imagination take you a little too far. Tonight, I didn’t kiss him, I… I danced with him.”

“You danced with him.”

He lowered his voice. “Yes. I danced with him.”

“You danced with him a-. The party. Hunk’s party, we were all invited.” Her twisting smile was colder than the breeze already piercing Lance’s bones. “You were late picking me up. I. I can’t-“ she shook her head again. “You danced with him while they were setting up, right.”

“Yes Allura, we _danced._ Forgive me that I forgot dancing was such a crime.”

Her sardonic smile poisoned her words. She slowly turns her head to Lance and scorns, “It always has to be about you, doesn’t it?”

But her words didn’t rise above the ambiance of graveyard’s echoes. “Excuse me?”

“Everything has to be about bloody _you_ , Lance! _Your_ work! _Your_ friends! _Your_ ideas, _your_ wants, _your_ problems! I can count on my hand the number of times we’ve talked about any of those things about me for the past _month_.”

Lance threw his hands up. “What do you want me to say, Allura! I’m sorry for existing! I’ll never tell you another problem so long as I live, how does that sound for you.”

“You’re such a child, Lance.”

His shouting could’ve woken the ghouls from their graves. “ _The gospel truth, ladies and gentleman!_ I thought I was a _cochinito_ , I dare you to say that again.”

“You’re so impossible! Why do you feel the need to assert your competence everywhere, please do tell me. It’s like you can never go a moment without everyone knowing you’re ‘the best’ or ‘the strongest’ or ‘the funniest’. Why can’t _you_ can’t be enough for you?” Allura stubbornly fights tears. “Let _you_ be good enough.”

“Okay, so at first you accuse me of being too obsessed with myself, now I’m the only thing you’re talking about. Figure it out, you can’t have it both ways, sweetie.”

Her cutting snarl could cut diamonds. “Fine.” She lowered her raising hands (when had they done that?) back into her lap. Around her the lamps began to dim. Her ichor persisted. “What I would want, for even just a brief, fleeting moment, is to not feel like I’m taking care of everything.”

“You take care of everything.”

“That’s what it _feels like_ , Lance! I… I’m getting so tired, Lance. I really am. Between trying to handle my school work,  trying to handle work-work, handling you,” she waved a flippant hand vertical in a Lance-ish direction, “it’s too much. You’re always putting you first, Lance. Always you. I’ve let it go on for too long.”

Lance took a moment in the fragile stillness to gather his thoughts. The moment did not last long.

“You’ve _let_ it. Now that’s just cute. So apparently I can’t have wants or needs, you’re being repressed, and I’m either too much or not enough for you. I love it. Gee, I wish you would’ve told me earlier so I wouldn’t have **burdened** you with all of my selfishness. I would hate for you to ever feel ignored or brushed off. I can’t imagine how that would feel.”

“Enough, Lance.”

“Well you wanted truth, didn’t you! **_Make up your damn mind_**!” One by one he snatched plates, napkins and the thermal to cram back into the basket. “I still don’t know what you want! Do you just not want _me_ anymore? This wouldn’t be the first time that were so!”

“ _Stop it!”_

“Stop what, Allura. Tell me. You want me to stop being this, you want me to stop being that. What will be enough for you, princess. This is giving me such a frickin headache-“

She latched onto his wrist and said, “I want you to stop packing up. I am- I’m sorry, Lance. Okay? I’ve just been, really stressed out lately and I’m taking it out on you. That’s not fair.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” She frowned at him. He continued regardless, “but ‘stress’? Please. That’s not all it is. As a matter of fact, that’s not what it is at all. If you’re blowing up at me for… what. Cause I decided to make one dumb decision? So I dance with a guy, I thought it would help us bond. Sue me. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I’m sorry for letting off a little steam.”

“‘Letting off a little steam’? What the hell does that mean?”

Lance shook his head. Baffled, he gazed at her. 

“Are you for real?” he tried. “Allura, babe. Sugar. Don’t let yourself be deluded in thinking this is all of a sudden. To be frank, I’m surprised this actually hasn’t happened sooner.”

“I’m not _deluded_ , Lance.” She dropped her head and picked up the blanket to swaddle herself in. “I guess I was just hoping you wouldn’t feel it, too.”

“Feel what, the literal physical and tangible tension we’ve been having for months now? Yeah, you can bet your pretty ass I’ve ‘felt it’. Everyone we know has been able to ‘feel it’. Hell even _Coran_ has felt it and that man is denser than a hard brick wall. We weren’t fooling anyone.”

“So you danced with Keith because you wanted to relieve the tension.” Ruefully, unwittingly, Allura snickered to herself. “I would think of different ways for you to go about relieving tension, but I guess… I can be glad you’re getting along better with Keith.”

Lance grimaced. “Yep. Be, uh. Super glad.”

“Granted, I still don’t entirely love the fact that you _smell_ like him, but since I have to I’ll get over it.”

“Would you let go of that, already? I swear, you really are a princess. There is nothing going on between Keith and I. _Nothing._ Give it a rest.”

“It would have been really great if you danced with me, instead. We still haven’t tried swing yet.”

“Allura…”

She sunk her eyes to the ground. The night had become so dark and the lamps so weak that she could only see Lance’s eyes in front of her. No farther. She didn’t like it.

“I don’t think there’s something going on between you and Keith.”

“Well _finally,_ geez louise-“

“But there is something going on between you. In regards to Keith.”

His stricken face could have been comical had not the conversation been so painful. “Are you serious?”

“Quite. So you didn’t kiss him. But that still doesn’t change where your eyes go when you talk with him. Or rather, when he talks at you. Your feet point towards him. You don’t use your lines on him, which is the most surprising of all. He must be someone you genuinely want to impress. I don’t even get the satisfaction of saying that.”

“Hey, you _loved_ my lines.”

“I tepidly tolerated your lines, Lance. When you started actually being real with me was the point I decided to give you any time of day. You and Keith are. You two are very interesting.” Allura muttered to herself, “ _not that I particularly_ blame _you for what you’re doing, but still._ ”

Lance didn’t let anything slip past. “You wanna run that by me again?”

The woman’s eyes shifted entirely too quickly for their own innocence. “Not particularly?” With her wavering tone and her crumbling expression, her guilt was too evident. The verdict is crass.

“I can’t believe you!” Lance scoffed. “You-. You! **_What the hell!_** Don’t tell me… You have feelings for Keith too, don’t you.” He stared her down. “ **Don’t you**!” He realized he incriminated himself, but his shame and his tolerance had long been gone. Lance finally gave in to his hysterics. “And you’re the one accusing _me_ of ‘wandering eyes’ and ‘wandering affections’. How _dare you_. What a load of crap, you’re such a hypocrite, Allura.”

He allows himself to dwell on her relation to Keith in turn, while her face burns burns burns. 

“Oh my God. Oh God, I can totally see it. The only time you’ve payed this much attention to your hair is when you first stared going out with _me_. Now I’m lucky if you even put any hairspray in.”

 _Just spit out your bitter, Lance. Don’t try to swallow whatever sour thing is crawling down your throat!_ Allura’s mind screams.

“Yeah. Yeah you have to take care of _everything,_ Allura. Your work, your school, your new _budding frickin_ ** _emotions_**. Pobrecita. Really, I feel sorry for you. Poor princess, has to take care of so much. Tell me, how heavy is the weight of divided affections on your shoulders? How **dare you**.” He pointed a finger to her chest. “The _only_ thing you’ve been letting happen is your interest vacillate. So I danced with him. Okay. But tell me, woman. Did _you_ kiss him?”

“I beg your _pardon_?” 

“I think it’s a fair question. Since you rode my ass so much about it, tell me Allura! What’s wrong, dish it but can’t take it? You accuse me of kissing the guy, for what? You trying to deflect? God, are you _projecting_?”

“Lance, I would never-“

“Yeah, but apparently I _would._ What a joke. Answer the question, Allura. Did you kiss him or what. Is his lips softer than mine. Do you prefer his cologne over mine. Tell me how his chapped lips felt over your lipstick, really I’m curious.”

“I didn’t _kiss him_!” Allura cried. 

“Right, right.”

 _“_ ** _I didn’t_**.”

“But of course, the lady would never do anything wrong. Never in her life. A princess must be decorous and well-mannered and even-tempered at all times. No temptation ever befalls her. Not silky hair that quietly begs her to run her fingers through. Not violet eyes with no defiance to stare into. Not young, single biker men with tragic pasts and leather jackets and choppy mullets. Surely, no beauty or body could ever surmount the walls of Allura’s conscious. Her loyalty.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? What is it that drew you to him, hm? Was it his biting humor? His impulsiveness? Jesus Allura, there’s just, _so much to_ ** _choose_** _from!_ ” He leaned in close to accuse her with a slithering tone. “Was it how quick he gets you hot under the collar?”

“ ** _STOP IT!_** _”_

A resounding _crack_ echoed around the field from Allura’s strike across his cheek. She panted to herself as he held his face in his hand. 

Stunned and angry, the woman lowered her stinging hand. She no longer fought her tears. She didn’t blink them away, she didn’t dare look Lance in the eye. She would _not_ concede.

Lance worked his jaw, slowly inching his head back his vexed lover. Agonizing, agonizing he dropped his hand from his tingling face. Voice empty he confesses,

“That was it for me.”

“What.”

Lance had never heard her voice so dejected. Bored. Not directed at anyone else, least of all himself. Belligerently he pressed on.

“His voice. His hands. He works out a lot, you know. They were all really distracting and I couldn’t help but think…”

“Lance. Do I really want to know.”

His laugh was short, low, quiet and vicious. “No. No not really. But I’m telling you anyway.  I thought of what it would be like when his mouth would say things in that… _voice_ of his. You know the one I’m talking about. Angry Keith is Hot Keith. How would his gloves feel on my arms,” Lance followed the motions on himself, “my neck. My legs. _God_ , I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I still can’t stop thinking about it. Then my… my dreams stopped being about me and him.”

“Lance…” Allura warned again.

He surged before he lost his nerve. “They started being about you and him.”

Her eyes widened as she held onto her scarf. Scandalized for both herself and the voyeuristic spirits around them, Allura turned her head and torso away in an attempt to shun his words. It didn’t work in the slightest when Lance’s voice grew bolder in audacity, his tone farther from shame, his words feverish in fantasy.

“Somehow imagining you two together was worse than he and I.” He blew a pathetic raspberry at himself. “Isn’t that irony sick. I imagined him being braver… no. Not quite. He was more confident. He was rougher with you in ways I’ve always wanted to be, but never thought you’d like.” As Lance divulged, his eyes drifted.  “He’d pull your hair. He pulled your hair _a lot_. He’d hold you down, have his way. I mean, it was the same with me but in my mind, you two had more of the switch thing? going on. That was uh,” he coughed. “That was actually pretty hot.”

Before Allura’s face could tint any more red, she whispered to Lance, “why are you telling me all this?”

“That’s not all.”

She groaned.

“Hmph, you’re telling _me_. When I stopped being mortified by seeing you leave me to sleep with him, I imagined all three of us together. After that, I just _lost it_. I lost it, Allura. After that, I couldn’t stop looking at his lips or leaning towards him. I still wanted you but I wanted _him too_ and it was too much. I don’t know what I want. Actually, not true. Yes I do. But it makes me so so **_sick_** to think about. You. Him. And I. There’s no…”

The last lamp flickered out. Allura shook her head.

“There’s no way, Lance. We’ve talked about that before. Even if I haven’t… even if I divulged my fantasies as far as you have, there’d be no way. Not even for someone like Keith.” She sniffed, “even if. Even though we both-“

“Even if. Yeah. So... what now.”

Allura leaned to pick up a lantern to clutch it to her chest. Even under the smoggy constellations the night felt condemning. The mausoleum towered over her. The tombstones leaned in closer to the pair and encroached on their privacy. No amount of lowering her voice would make the graveyard’s ghosts deaf to her defeat. 

“‘What now’. Easy words, Lance. _What about Keith_ , is that what you mean? What about you? What about me, what is it that you’re referring to? This whole thing is such a _mess_ ,” she shudders.

“Yeah sure, what about him. Well, since you’ve already said ‘no’ we’ve got Keith figured out. So now all that’s left is you and I.”

“Do we. Do we even want to, I don’t know. Even keep this? We’ve been struggling for so long, Lance. _So long._ Are we holding on to nothing?”

Lance leaned over to grab the lamps, then down to reorganize the basket. The streetlights finally turned on. (There was nothing left to illuminate.) He sighed.

“I don’t think it’s nothing. Not yet. I don’t want it to be.” He took a shuddering breath of his own. “Like… do _you_ want it to be? Is it over? Why not put ourselves out of our misery.”

“Don’t say it like that.” Allura pleaded.

“How else am I _going_ to say it. How much more are you going to like me saying ‘let’s just spend some time apart’, huh? That’s what I thought. I think we both know if there’s an ‘apart’, there’s no coming back.”

Allura sharply turned her head away. The whole date has made her nauseous, anxious and overwhelmed. Lance just can’t seem to detract his own needling from it.

She busted her ass to fight for compromise. Her final conclusion rested on,

“If there’s no ‘take time apart’, then why don’t we try ‘take it easy’? It’s becoming more than evident to me that we both have things to work on. We’ll still see each other, we obviously still care about each other. I mean. I still care about you, Lance.” Her voice weakened. “But… I. I, uh. Hold on.”

Frantically she unwrapped her scarf and holds her stomach. Silently she implored for her bile to be kept down. Her throat constricted, her breathing tightened. Her awareness eschewed until only her person was left. Faintly she shook until the feeling passed. When Allura relaxed at last, she startled when she felt Lance’s hand soothingly rubbing circles on her back. “Oh, thank you…” and sheepishly accepted the extra water-bottle he presented to her.

As she took a few moments to calm down and her intestines to settle, Lance stayed rubbing her back and humming. Faintly, she recognized one from the the playlist he made for the night.

Allura’s breathing settled. Lance said his piece.

“I think that. Well. I think I can live with taking it easy. I know I was flattering you earlier _and you saw right through me_ , but I really do want to be good for you. That was real. I’m just worried about how this Keith thing is going to fit into all of it. It’s not a matter of what if, Allura. What about when he causes more contention between us, again?”

“Frankly Lance,” Allura said as she capped her water. “I don’t want to think about that bastard right now.”

Lance laughed half-heartedly. “Alright. Alright, yeah. Yeah, we can think about him later.”

He continued to rub Allura’s back, and she re-adorned her scarf.  With pinked, puffy eyes, she looked to Lance and said, “let’s go home now. Yes?”

And he took the bottle from her, closed the basket, wrapped the blankets and held out his arm. She took it. Together they walked away from the mausoleum with the whispering wind clinging around their ankles. Softly he replies,

“Yeah, babe. Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critiques appreciated! 
> 
> Boy howdy do I love me that sweet, sweet #suffering.


End file.
